


pretty and cute

by samalambis



Category: Supernatural
Genre: D/s, Dean in Panties, Drabble, M/M, PWP, dominant!top!sam, submissive!bottom!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 05:25:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2953925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samalambis/pseuds/samalambis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're gorgeous."</p><p>This time Dean didn't didn't say anything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	pretty and cute

**Author's Note:**

> a drabble i wrote when i should have been sleeping bc sick people dont need that stuff amirite or amirite

“You’re pretty.”  Six year old Sam said to Dean, big eyes staring up into his brother’s and smile completely honest.  Dean was pretty to Sam, he had lips that he thinks Mommy might have had and really pretty eyes.  Sam likes to think Mommy would have looked like Dean.

He didn’t listen to Dean’s sputtering denies because he got distracted by a really cool beetle that crawled by and he wouldn’t have listened anyways, because Dean was pretty.

-

“You’re cute.”  Sam said to Dean as he clung to him, fourteen and drunk because he got into John’s liquor stash but he just killed his first creature, a werewolf, and he thinks he might hate himself a little and Dean really is cute in a way.  

Pretty pink lips and freckles and shining green eyes?  That made people cute.  And cute people always were a nice distraction when Sam didn’t want to think about things.  Though honestly if what you define as cute was how your big brother looked when you wanted to avoid thinking about your big brother…  Well its an annoying loop that Sam didn’t often escape from.

“Sam, what do you even-“  Stopping short his older brother recoiled back from Sam, letting him drop in a slump on the bed and scrunching his nose.  “Are you, Sam, did you get _drunk_?”  He asked with incredulity, and Sam just giggled in response, dropping onto his back and watching mesmerized the ceiling swirl in circles.  Leave it to Dean to ruin the whole ‘think of how cute your brother is’ distraction route from the situation.

“Does it matter?  Dad does it.”

“Fuck what Dad does Sam, you’re fourteen!”  Dean shot back, eyes fierce anger and one finger jabbing accusingly Sam’s way.  Sam didn’t care, he didn’t care for anything and whenever he looked at his hands he just saw blood and his ears rang with screams and if getting drunk made it go away then Dean can’t say shit.  Not when Dean’s not hearing whispered curses and hating the core of himself a bit more everytime he loads a gun.

“I’m fourteen and I killed somebody.”  He responded, words slurred and a dopey grin taking up most of his face.  Through the swill of his mind he couldn’t feel the horror that often came attached to that statement.

“Some _thing_ Sam, not somebody.  It was a monster.”

“She had a face.”  Sam deadpanned.

“ _It_  had a face, they all have faces.  Best you can do is suck it up and get used to it.”

“What if I don’t want to?”  Sam asked, a hint of a challenge and Dean didn’t answer.  

Sam didn’t care.  He didn’t; though he turned to cry into his pillow that night at the gaping hole in his chest that was going to swallow him whole one day.  He didn’t care.

-

“You’re beautiful.”  Sam told Dean with a sad smile, seventeen with his bag slung over his shoulder and ready to leave to California.  His hands were on Dean’s cheeks, wiping away imaginary tears, and he couldn’t look away from Dean’s eyes, bright and shining and begging him to not go, to stay.

He couldn’t stay, his life, his  _real_ life, was waiting for him in Palo Alto, and if Dean wasn’t coming with him he couldn’t ask him to stay.  But before he left there was one thing he needed, one last thing he’ll take from Dean without asking because he knows Dean will give it anyways.

Before his older brother had any chance to deny that he was beautiful, because he was, he was beautiful and smart and would never know it as long as he stayed here and Sam was done trying to tell him it, and decided that before he left he would show him what little he could.  He leaned down (taller than Dean now, he noted dully), slow enough to give time for Dean to pull away but of course he wouldn’t, he’d simply stare wide eyed while Sam pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, chaste and sweet and gone just as quick as he’d placed it there.

“You are, you know.”  He whispered into the tense silent, one last swipe of his thumbs and then he was gone, leaving Dean to stand alone under a dying streetlamp wondering where he went wrong and what Sam even meant.

Years later, when they found each other again, Dean didn’t say anything about the kiss and Sam didn’t mention it.

-

“You’re gorgeous.”

This time Dean didn’t say anything, merely blushed a delicious red and turned his head into his shoulder.  He was a gorgeous sight which Sam could not deny.  His legs were spread wide on the bed, hands clenching in the sheets above his head just where Sam ordered him to keep them and his mouth was panting in desperate clutches at air, lips swollen and slick with spit.  His chest expanded fast with each breath, body giving sharp little jerks every time Sam swept his hands down his trembling thighs.

“God, look at you.”  He whispered, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the tip of Dean’s satin covered cock, the silk wet with his precome.  Dean was wearing his red panties today, black lace running along the trims and small string ribbons tied at his hips.  His brother gave a wondrous keening sound, hips pressing up and Sam pulled back, giving Dean a soft reprehensive look.  “Now, Dean, you know you’re supposed to wait.”  His tone almost reminiscent of a parent chiding a child.

“Can’t- can’t, Sam, please, I can’t wait.”  Dean panted, head nodding back and forth and eyes glazed over.  Sam tilted his head, a small sigh leaving him.

“It’s Sammy.”  Sam said softly, letting his fingers tap where they were resting on Dean’s mid thigh, one hand inching down to play at the lace trimmings.  Any other time and Dean would have remarked how if they were doing anything else Sam would chastise him for calling him by his nickname.  But there was something about his childhood name being used in these moments that struck a chord with him and the imagery of Dean debauched and begging  _Sammy_  to let him come?  Sue him if it wasn’t delicious.

“ _Sammy, please_.”  Dean quietly begged, eyes lidded and lashes dark and clumped together by his tears, casting a dark shadow over his cheekbones.  He was a gorgeous image, pure carnal sin wrapped up in one pretty package that Sam still had a hard time believing he actually got to have.  He must have won the lottery in some other life to win something as amazing as this, truly.

“I don’t know, Dean, have you been a good boy for me?”  Sam murmured, tone full of mirth and Dean bit into his lower lip, tugging at the flesh and Sam watched as his tongue peeked out to soothe the harsh pull.  His brother was desperate, he has to be, Sam’s kept him on edge for a few hours now with light teasing touches that would drive anyone in their right mind insane.  

“Come on, you know I have, Sammy, come on you’ve got to.  Gotta let me come.”  Dean pleaded in a breathless voice, his hips rolling desperately up towards Sam’s hand which was now playing around the small lump the vibrator - the one Sam has used to drive Dean to brink plenty of times tonight- made in Dean’s panties.  It wasn’t a very large one, but it was just the perfect size as to where if Sam maneuvered it just so he could get it right where it needed to be.  He’s already made plenty use with it, and as much fun as watching Dean tremble under the constant stimulation against his sweet spot was, he wasn’t sure his pretty big brother could take much more and had to let up eventually.

“Nothing here says I have to, Dean.”  Sam responded light heartedly, leaning over Dean’s near shaking form while pushing his brother’s legs up and out of his way.  Dean, energy exhausted long ago, was ragdoll limp in his hands as Sam pushed his limbs around, but somehow mustered just enough to give him a disbelieving glare that had little edge to it considering the circumstances.  It was almost cute, and Sam couldn’t help but lean down further and press a small kiss to the tip of Dean’s nose.

“Come on, Sammy, I’ve waited so long already, _please_.”  Dean begged, as if it would be any more successful than his other tries but perhaps Sam’s teased him long enough.

“Fine, you want to come?  Do it yourself.”  He said, more firm this time as he leaned off Dean and hid the smirk that tugged at his lips when his brother tried to follow his weight and warmth upwards.  He’s already done so much tonight, and he always did enjoy watching Dean play with himself.  Still, his brother had enough of himself still cognitively aware to flush brilliantly at the idea.  Even if they’ve been at these activities for a few months now, Dean still finds the idea of masturbating in front of Sam highly embarrassing.  Sam mostly finds the shyness adorable.

“Wha…?  Why can’t you do it with your…  Your big hands and fingers and…”  Dean mumbled out, looking anywhere but Sam while he fidgeted his legs around nervously.  

“Come on, Dean, want to see you do this for me baby, you know I love to watch you.”  Sam said softly, rubbing at Dean’s knees and watching as his chest raced around with each quick breath.  Dean looked unsure still, fingers clenching and unclenching in the sheets and Sam decided he just needed a little direction.

Reaching over he grabbed at the small container of lube by the bedside drawer and pushed it into Dean’s hands.  His older brother was already messy and open with lube, but more never hurt anyone; certainly not Dean.  Sam watched his fingers curl loosely around the container, thumb rubbing along the plastic surface before a small nod was given his way, almost as if Dean was reassuring himself that he could do this.  His brother really  _was_  adorable.

Very slowly Dean moved his hands down from above his head, shyly dragging them across his chest and letting one stray to swirl around one of his nipples.  Nail teasing the bud as he pinched at it lightly, Sam watching with heated interest before switching to watch the one still holding the lube flick the cap off with ease, letting the clear liquid seep out in globs over his palm and fingers before ditching the almost empty container by his thigh.  Dean paused here, hesitation dancing in the glaze of his eyes as his dry hand couldn’t seem to pull his panties out of the way.  He made a small noise, turning his head into his shoulder and keeping his eyes down as if his skin held the newest answers to life.

“Come on baby, you look so good, so hot for me.”  Sam said in that deep tone he knows Dean loves.  That seemed to do it, Dean peeking out from the corner of his eyes to look into Sam’s as he pushed his pretty red panties down just enough so his hand could fit comfortably.  Dean’s hand skimmed over his straining red cock which was grateful to be free from the tight confines of the panties, and moved further south to the dark purple vibrator holding him open still.  His hole was pink and puffy around the toy, slick with sweat and lube and the wet of Dean’s hand only helped him to pull it out ever so slowly.

Sam watched with lidded eyes each inch of the toy come to light, Dean’s hand trembling with the movements until he had it almost out, the tip the only thing holding him open.  With a deft flick of thumb Dean turned the vibrations on, pushing the toy back inside himself at an angle which had him jerking and arching his back off the bed, a shuddering moan falling from his lips and Sam almost wanted to help his poor brother out.  Then again watching Dean do this to himself just because he asked…  It was better.

“ _Sammy_.”  Dean whined as he left the toy alone to move onto his dick, slicking it up with excess lube and shuddering with each soft touch to himself.  He kept his face hidden away in his shoulder, body rigid with tension and jolting each time he swerved his thumb around the tip, smearing the precome before sweeping down the shaft, pressing against the sensitive vein running along the bottom and squeezing the base before rinsing and repeating.  All the while he kept calling out Sam’s name, eyes scrunched tight and legs holding themselves wide and open, hand not busy giving himself relief clenching into the cloth of Sam’s shirt.

Sam followed the soft tugs from his brother’s hand, chuckling quietly and kissing Dean’s cheek softly, directing him with soft bumps of his nose to look over at him.  Dean sluggishly followed the unspoken order, eyes unfocused when they met Sam’s and Sam pressed a heated kiss to his swollen red lips, tongue pushing it’s way past no resistance as he laid a silent claim of  _mine_  in the wet heat of Dean’s mouth.  His brother could barely keep up, whimpers and moans slipping from him while his hand shook where it held Sam, his chest heaving faster and faster with each breath.

“God, you look so good baby, should see yourself right now.  Want to keep you right here always, just for me.”  Sam whispered into the kiss, pulling away to lean in close and breath into Dean’s ear.  He could feel in the clench of Dean’s hand on his shirt and the way he jerked beneath him how close his brother was.  The moans and whines of his name becoming more hitched and breathless and Sam brought one arm down to stroke at Dean’s quivering thighs, the other curled around Dean’s head and fingers caressing through the sweaty strands of Dean’s hair.

“Sammy, please, want to come, gotta let me, please, I was a good boy, please.”  Dean muttered nonsensically, hips fucking into his own fist now without rhythm in sharp jerks and head tossing itself back against the pillow.

“Sh, baby, you can come, go ahead, let go, you were so good for me, come on, let it out.”  Sam spoke lowly into Dean’s ear, soothing down his shaking flank as Dean came with a sharp moan, Sam’s name mixed in with the breathless pants.  “There, that’s it.”  Sam muttered softly, kissing Dean’s lax lips while his brother clung to him with both hands now, body spasming and looking absolutely beautiful beneath him.  Knowing full well that over stimulation would simply be too much for Dean to handle right now, Sam reached down between his legs to pull out the vibrator and turn it off, setting it on the drawer.  Dean could only muster a soft whine at the movement, channel sore and too sensitive for even the slightest touch.

“You did so perfect, always so good for me.”  Sam murmured comfortingly to Dean, wiping the hair away from his forehead and pressing a gentle kiss to the skin there.  “Be right back, gotta get you cleaned up, okay?”  He said softly, climbing out of bed to go collect a rag that’d be fit for the job.  Dean did nothing but mumble something halfway coherent in response, flopping onto his side lazily and curling away from the wet spot on the bed.

Once Sam got Dean cleaned up and changed into some sweats he settled him on the other bed, praising him all the while because otherwise Dean would complain non stop about being woken, no matter the why.  Sam would let the whining slide, because Dean  _did_  do a good job today, and decided that theres nothing he would like more than cuddling up behind his amazingly gorgeous and smart big brother who maybe if he pays attention to what Sam’s been telling him for  _years_  might actually learn that fact himself.  Not to say Sam won’t enjoy himself severely trying to prove it, that is.


End file.
